Knowing your aristocratic habits
as I do, I realize you must owe a lot of money by this time, and
your new friends must be getting tired of you. I have been
expecting you to draw on me daily, and am taking this occasion to
warn you in your own expensively acquired college English that
"THERE IS NOTHING DOING"--except upon one condition. If you will
agree to behave yourself in future, I will pay your debts, send
you West, and give you a job as operator at forty dollars a month.
BUT--you will go where I send you, and you will stay where you are
put. I will do the thinking for both of us and judge of your
associates. Maybe if you prove to be any good at all, I will
arrange with the police to let you spend your vacations in "that
dear New York," which still shows signs of your red--paint brush.
I would be pleased to have an apology by return mail, so that I
may meet you in New Orleans and start you off once more on the
road to decency and self-respect. You will never be a success at
anything, but I am always ready to do my duty. This is my last
offer, and if you refuse you may distinctly and definitely go to
the devil. As ever,
Your loving father, DARWIN K. ANTHONY.
P.S.--I can get GOOD operators for thirty dollars a month.
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